


One Shot: Moonlight Over Essakane

by brownskinsugarplum76



Series: Joyce_and_Robert [3]
Category: Led Zeppelin, Rock Music RPF
Genre: Africa, Backstage, British, Concerts, Dancing, Desert, Drums, F/M, Fingerfucking, Interracial Relationship, Nighttime, Rock Stars, Slow Dancing, Strip Tease, Vaginal Fingering, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-14 18:58:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17514143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brownskinsugarplum76/pseuds/brownskinsugarplum76
Summary: Joyce accompanies Robert to a desert festival in Mali. The concert, and their time together afterward, is an affair to remember.





	One Shot: Moonlight Over Essakane

Robert followed his band members off the stage, praising them for an electrifying show before excusing himself to meet up with Joyce. He approached her, striding with unhurried sensual swagger and smiling after having conquered the crowd of nomads of the Malian desert, adventurous Zeppelin aficionados, and lovers of good music. His outdoor concert had been relaxed, yet undeniably sexy. The mood was set by the sultry summer night and his band’s focus on African polyrhythms and unexpected flights of fancy on new songs and old favorites like Black Dog and Whole Lotta Love. 

An irrepressible smile glowed on Robert's face, and his body glistened with sweat in the many places it was not covered by the rust-colored waistcoat and strands of love beads that he was wearing. He ran a hand through his summer blond curls and padded toward Joyce on bare feet. 

Joyce, who was seated on the floor in the wings, was enraptured by the performance, and also now by Robert's walk and the slight movement of his unfettered manhood in his black trousers. “That was amazing,” she said when he stood before her. “The band was excellent, your singing was hypnotic, and for me to be able to sit so close to everything? Wow!”  
“I'm glad you enjoyed it, and I'm glad you could join me.” Robert smiled tenderly. 

“And, I must say, I haven't seen you perform since 1977, but you are every bit as talented… and uninhibited… as you were back then.”

“One might say I have a lovely muse these days,” Robert said before crouching to brush his lips against Joyce's. 

_“Très bon,”_ said Ali Farka Toure as he approached Robert to praise his performance. Ali was waiting for preparations to be finalized for his own show. 

_“Merci, chef,”_ said Robert. He stood and grasped the legendary Malian guitarist’s hands, the man who was known as the continent’s answer to John Lee Hooker, and bowed slightly toward him. Robert introduced Ali and Joyce, and then Joyce watched the men exchange more pleasantries in French before Ali walked away. 

“Shall we?” Robert said with a smile. 

Joyce nodded, and Robert extended his hand to help her stand. 

She rose from her cross-legged seat on the floor. Her lavender gauze maxi skirt reached for her sandals as she stood, and the stack of copper bangles, which Robert had bought for her at a bazaar earlier that week, clanged wildly on her forearm. 

Joyce handed Robert his leather sandals. He put them on and then placed a hand on the small of her back, where her brown skin was exposed by her white midriff t-shirt. They began to walk back to the trailer that served as Robert’s private lounge area at the festival.

As they walked, they could hear a relentless drumbeat from another stage. The sound of drums was topped by that of chanting vocalists, and all of it permeated the air, which had been sweltering but was gradually cooling. The music was intermittently punctuated by the high-pitched, approving sounds of ululating women.

Robert and Joyce walked for a while on the lighted path that cut its way through the desert terrain. The sheer number of lights blaring into the expanse of sand made it seem like endless midday.

They could still hear the sounds of other festival acts along the way, although now the music was interspersed with the hum of generators. The driving drumbeats of the various songs were akin to the musical heartbeat of the African continent. It was the sound that had found its way to America and England and was reflected back with Robert’s music, and the music of many others. Tonight, it clearly resounded in the air with each song played.

Joyce was excited to accompany Robert to this festival. She had never visited an African country before and had been enjoying every second in Mali. Every experience was a revelation to her. There were the historic riches of Timbuktu. Snatches of conversations in French and indigenous languages. The sumptuous taste of food like _poulet yassa_ and perfectly cooked rice. The lilting, bubbling sounds of music from various parts of the diaspora that blended perfectly on the radio. The way that brightly colored and patterned fashions of the African concert-goers gave even more vibrancy to their various hues, from tawny gold to the bluest black shades of skin.

“It’s so lively here!” she gushed to Robert. “I don’t know what I expected to see, but I don’t think this was it. This is an experience that I won’t forget anytime soon.”

“It’s absolutely transcendent, innit? The magic of the modern musical wanderers, like me, wafts through the air and brings the old kingdoms back to life,” he said, his large hands gesticulating in an animated fashion. “The ghosts of old griots ride once more, on the sounds of our songs and this arid night air. There’s nothing like this experience anywhere else.”

She smiled at his admiration of the hypnotic sounds that surrounded them. There was passion in his words for the music with which he seemed to feel so at home. The enduring awe and curiosity that seemed to fuel his best musical impulses was clear. The feelings illuminated his handsome, mature face with the enthusiasm of the twenty-something version of him, the one that explored the sonic secrets of various cultures on whirlwind expeditions with Jimmy Page.

“Ah, here we are.” He guided Joyce into the trailer and kicked off his shoes and unbuttoned and removed his waistcoat. Then he walked to the mini fridge and produced a chilled bottle of palm wine.

“Have you tried this before?” he asked, approaching the table where a vase of red roses sat, and a corkscrew and two glasses also waited. He opened the bottle and poured a cloudy, white liquid into the glasses.

“Not yet. I’m having so many new experiences by being around you! I love it.”

“A toast to new adventures,” he said, lightly touching his glass to hers with one hand and cupping his other hand on her waist. His gaze into Joyce’s eyes made it clear that he meant the promise of their budding relationship as much as their tourist prospects.

The wine was subtly sweet and delicious. She told him so and finished her glass.

She set her empty glass down, as did he. He nestled his hands on her face and they kissed.

Joyce’s body pulsated with the magic of Robert’s tender kiss, which was growing more insistent by the second. Her hands canvassed the expanse of his bare, muscular back and ultimately came to a stop in his hair.

He returned his hands to her waist again and, with his eyes locked softly on hers, he wound his hips in time with a lethargic drum beat, the sound of festival music that was still slightly audible from where they were relaxing. He willed her body to form a sensual duet with his.

“You still have great moves,” Joyce observed, wrapping her arms around Robert’s neck.

“It’s my job to be in tune with the rhythm, but it’s also my pleasure off stage.” He grinned as his hands crawled up her back.

“I’m fully aware that you’re an expert at moving your body for pleasure,” Joyce said with a knowing smile.

“Well, you’ve certainly given me quite a bit of practice lately,” he said, his lips almost touching hers, close enough for her to smell the wine on his breath.

Robert kissed Joyce again, before she could comment on his words. They continued to dance, and both the dancing and kissing fanned the wanton flames raging inside of her.

Robert weaved a slow-motion caress of her shoulder-length hair into his seduction as they danced and continued to kiss.

The moment seemed endless to Joyce, as she savored the feel of his soft lips on her mouth, neck, and then collarbone, his roving hands, and his pelvis pressed into hers. She had lived in a near-constant state of intoxication since she had become reacquainted with Robert, and she hoped that their connection, just like the dance she now found herself in, wouldn’t come to an end anytime soon.

“I could do this with you all night, Miss Joyce Thompson,” Robert murmured as he nuzzled her neck.

“Would that be enough to satisfy you though?” Joyce responded, with a mischievous grin sprawled across her face as she shifted one hand to rest on his jawline.

Robert chuckled. “Show me what else you have in mind,” he said, resting a hand on top of hers and kissing her deeply before breaking from her embrace. He winked, walked over to the sofa, removed his trousers slowly and sat down, his sculpted legs open wide and his manhood on display.

“You’ll see…” Joyce continued dancing alone for a while, closing her eyes and letting the faint rhythm outside take over her body. She put her hands on her hips and undulated slowly, then danced in a circle, her arms embellishing the movements of the rest of her body. Then, she wriggled the skirt down her body and deftly stepped out of it. She turned her back to Robert, showing him that she had chosen thong underwear for the night. She slowly danced around again to face Robert, while she let the roll of her waist and her hips telegraph her desire for him.

The music stopped moments later, and Robert whistled and clapped his hands. “What a tantalizing performance. Maybe you’ll be on the bill next year?” he mused, while his eyes roved over Joyce’s body.

“No chance. This show is strictly for an audience of one.” She crossed the room, straddled Robert’s lap, and lightly placed her hands on the his shoulders.

“I like the sound of that, love.” Robert resumed kissing Joyce and then set to work removing her remaining clothes.

Another song began in the distance, and Joyce resumed her dance in Robert’s lap.

Robert purred, clutched her waist, and kissed her neck. “I’m sure you’re well aware that this isn’t enough for me, either,” he said in a husky whisper in her ear.

“I am,” she said with a sigh, as Robert massaged her clit.

“What should we do about it?” he dragged his tongue around one of her nipples as he nestled a finger inside of her and thrusted lazily.

“I think I have a good answer…” Her voice trailed off as Robert added another finger and curved into her.

“Hold that thought, babe. I have a bit of a detour for you…” He grasped the back of her head with his free hand and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss, and Robert’s prowling fingers in her sex, floated her away from the African desert and the background festival noises to an oasis of pleasure inside of her. The sensations soon boiled over in exquisite, climactic fashion, and her moans were her testimony to what had transpired.

“Now… What do you have in store for me, old girl?”

Joyce kissed him, stood up, and then lowered herself onto Robert’s cock with her back facing him.

“You do know what I like…” He grasped Joyce’s hips and indulged fully in her pleasurable motions. A soft growl escaped his throat as she ground into his lap, and he nipped at her neck as he clutched one of her breasts.

She arched into his movements, and she stiffened when he put a finger to her swollen clit.

His breath was hot and loud in her ear. “I thought about you the whole time on the stage,” he whispered as he continued to fuck and fondle her.

“Mmmmm, that explains a lot…” She purred as her sex pulsed from the gradually building sensations.

“And what a vision you are now, my love…” He trailed more kisses down her neck and nipped at her collarbone. “But I need more… I need to feel the embrace of your body under me, inside and out… I need you to give me every last ounce of your energy…” He held her tightly and kissed her neck again, while his hair ticked her shoulders.

It was an electrifying kiss that was almost more alluring than the feel of his thickness inside of her. She couldn’t resist the high that his lips were transmitting. “I’m all yours,” she sighed. She departed from his lap and stretched out on the couch after Robert stood.

He exhaled a ragged breath when he was inside of her again, and his eyes danced with carnal intensity as she wrapped her arms and legs around him. It was another spellbinding performance in the desert.

Robert’s caress followed familiar paths of Joyce’s body over and over again. Her moans intensified with each new journey of his large hands. She started to lose track of where she ended and he began, what was her enjoyment, and what was Robert’s. It wasn’t a blur; it was more like something new, large, and vibrant had grown out of their connection and was thriving on the frenzy of their delight.

Joyce opened her eyes and found Robert’s locked on hers. His lustful smile widened. He lowered himself to her, caging her with his body, and snaked his tongue inside of her welcoming mouth. She clawed at his back as he ground into her more forcefully but ultimately surrendered to the heightened pleasure, and she nestled her hands in his mane of wind-blown waves. “Is this what you needed?” she murmured as her body started to tremble.

“And more, babe…” His breath hitched at the feel of his climax on the horizon.

Her body stiffened below him before an extended wave of involuntary shuddering and wailing possessed her.

“Fuck… Your pleasure is my weakness, love,” he said as he hissed, his back went rigid, and his body stuttered out blessed completion. “What magic to be found here, on and off stage,” he murmured as he brushed his lips against hers and nuzzled into her breasts.


End file.
